


Only Human?

by AussieOnyx



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Gods and Goddesses, Greek Mythology - Freeform, More tags to be added, Not Quite Human, One-Shots, Tropes, author needs more coffee, darcy's not taking any of your shit, face-palming, more than they appear, tropes upon tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5898379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieOnyx/pseuds/AussieOnyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Darcy wasn't quite, you know, human? How would The Avengers react?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired, in part, by Notahotlibrarian's "There are more things in Heaven..." but also by the other fantastic authors who have taken the 'not fully human' trope and created some truly fantastic tales that have been a joy to read.

Greetings to all and sundry.  
No, this is not the first chapter/tale. It is, instead, a bit of a preface as well as something of an abject apology.

First; my other stories have NOT been abandoned. Currently, they are fighting me to be written- I want the plot to go one way and the characters are disagreeing. There have also been some RL complications- 'Arms, for example is currently sitting pretty on the hard-drive of my other computer that WON'T TURN ON!! They will be continued at some point and I'll update them as I can. Maybe while I'm travelling I'll be inspired by the rolling emerald plains of Ireland (so frikkin' excited!!). 

Second; this collection of one-shots (possibly two-shots) all involve one of my favourite tropes- the 'more than they appear/not quite human' trope. In case this is not your cup o'tea, I don't mind if you don't read them, but I really hope that you do. To that end, I welcome feed-back of the constructive variety. I try to keep spelling/grammar errors to a minimum but as I do not have a beta-reader, some are likely to slip through the cracks. Please be polite when pointing them out. Also, as I am Aussie, there will be 'u's in various places that might seem odd to non-Commonwealth readers- these are not incorrect. :)

I must hand some of the inspiration/blame for these tales to my Dad. Ever since I was old enough to sit still and roll up characters, Dad has dragged me into the world of table-top gaming (RPG's, not miniatures), starting with AD&D, then D&D 3rd Ed, then GURPS and finally Mutants and Masterminds. He was also the one who introduced me to David Eddings and Raymond E Feist, sparking my life-long reading love-affair with the Sci-Fi/Fantasy genre which has also brought me to this point... 

So, without further Ado, please click the little button that says 'next chapter' to read about... well, that would be a spoiler now, wouldn't it???  
Cheers!


	2. Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was used to hearing weird requests; from Clint’s request for superglue and glitter arrows (they could actually be kind of useful) to Thor’s request for automatically refilling rotisserie racks and he had never even flinched. This though? This had to be one of the weirder requests.  
> “Hey, Tony. What are the chances that we can get one of the spare rooms on my floor converted into a stable by the end of the week?”

Jane was grabbing a nap at her desk; she’d managed to doze off while the computer was collating the latest data set from Asgard- the task bar slowly climbing to completion was surprisingly hypnotic- when the door to the lab slammed open and then shut again.  
  
Darcy was walking towards her with a cardboard carton holding coffees (manna of the gods!) and looking extremely frustrated as she spoke to someone on the phone.  
  
“...Grandpa, you know I love you, and you know that I will more than happily help you out when there is a rush on, but there is precedent for bad things happening when you go on ‘sabbatical’… what do you mean ‘what do I mean’? Do you not remember the last time, with the thing in Japan? And the time before that with the Auditors? Mom nearly pulled her hair out, or the time before that with the near-hostile take-over.”  
  
Jane was intrigued- she didn’t often hear much about Darcy’s family other than that they existed and were somewhat unconventional.  
  
“…Uh-huh. And what does Albert think of your plans? Not to mention that you want me to handle things for a few days… weeks? Grandpa, are you nuts?”  
  
Jane watched as Darcy stumbled over to a wheelie-chair and plonked down, looking pale and almost drawn. Jane rescued the coffees before they managed to slip out of   
Darcy’s suddenly lax grip (priorities!) while throwing her friend a concerned-slash-sympathetic look.  
  
A mild head-shake in Jane’s general direction was the only response the scientist got. Jane would get the whole story out of Darcy later. For now, she’d settle in to eavesdrop. While sipping her coffee. Where were the pop-tarts?  
  
“…Fine. I’ll think about it. When do you need an answer by? What do you mean, ‘Now’? Uh huh… Right… and why wasn’t Aunt Susan able to help out? She’s much better with the family business than I am…”  
  
Oooh, there was an Aunt as well.  
  
“…Oh.” Darcy deflated- her good-natured scolding fading away. “Oh, she didn’t say anything to me the last time I spoke with her. When?... Uh-huh… Okay. Okay, I’ll help. When should I expect you? Right… Okay… I love you too.”  
  
Jane watched as her normally bright and bubbly intern-slash-assistant buried her head in her hands and shuddered.  
  
“Darcy, are you alright?” Jane wrapped an arm around Darcy’s shoulders in an attempt to offer comfort; it felt very awkward- Jane wasn’t a touchy-feely type of person.  
  
Darcy heaved a sigh, heaved another sigh and lifted her head from her hands. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you Jane. There are things about me that I don’t tell anyone because it falls into the realm of the unbelievable.”  
  
Jane snorted. “Darcy, have you been paying attention to the last few years? Everything from Thor to the fall of SHIELD falls into the realm of the ‘unbelievable’.”  
  
“Oh, Janey, you have no idea…”  
**  
  
And Monday had started so well…  
  
Darcy’s sleep the night before had been blissful- the kind of deep sleep that comes without dreams. Her first cup of coffee had been the right temperature with the perfect amount of sweetness. She was even having a good hair and boob day.  
  
So, when her phone rang out with ‘Danse Macabre’ as she stood in line at the coffee cart, Darcy groaned, cursed herself for tempting the universe, and felt the good morning evaporating. Only one person warranted that particular tune, and as much as she loved to talk to her Grandpa, it never meant anything good… or easy- all of his plans in the past had turned into convoluted conspiracy theories that would make Tom Clancy develop a migraine.  
  
“Hello Grandpa, how are you today?”  
**  
  
Tony was used to hearing weird requests; from Clint’s request for superglue and glitter arrows (they could actually be kind of useful) to Thor’s request for automatically refilling rotisserie racks and he had never even flinched. This though? This had to be one of the weirder requests.  
  
“Hey, Tony. What are the chances that we can get one of the spare rooms on my floor converted into a stable by the end of the week?”  
  
He blinked and waited for the words to make sense as they filtered through his brain. Nope, not gonna happen.  
  
“A stable, like for an actual horse?”  
  
Darcy shrugged. “What else would you put in a stable? I mean, you could probably house cattle in a stable, but from what I understand they can get a bit upset at being confined and have a tendency to stampede.”  
  
“Why do you need to have a stable on your floor? If you really wanted a horse, I could let you use my membership to the Jockey Club. Or we could fit Barton with a saddle?”  
  
Darcy grinned. “As much as I like the idea of Clint and his arms covered in leather and being ridden like a carousel, I need to horse-sit for a few weeks and the horse is… a bit particular.”  
  
Tony shuddered. His mind went to a scary place at the thought of Barton dressed up like a pony-boy.  
  
“Back up to the part where you need to horse-sit… on your floor.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Darcy nodded, as though having a horse on your floor was a completely normal thing and not at all odd.  
  
Tony waited for Darcy to elaborate. She didn’t though; her grin was a bit disconcerting- it seemed a bit more… toothy… than usual.  
  
“I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Darcy, before I go and organise a major retro-fit of your floor. Why do you want to have a horse with you on your floor?”  
  
Darcy sighed.  
  
“Binky…”  
  
“Wait, the horse is called ‘Binky’?”  
  
“Yes, Tony, the horse is called Binky. Don’t interrupt.” Darcy waited for Tony to indicate that he was listening. “Binky was hand-raised by my grandfather from when he was only a few hours old. He’s become more dog than horse, temperament-wise, and will begin to pine without constant interaction. There are other factors involved as well that I can’t really get into until he arrives.”  
  
Tony was left as confused by Darcy’s ‘explanation’ as he was when she first made the request.  
  
“Right. Okay then. I’ll see what I can do. End of the week, you said?”  
  
Darcy bounced on her toes before bussing his cheek with a butterfly kiss before near-skipping out of the lab. “Thanks, Tony. You’re the best. I owe you cookies!”  
  
Tony was left bemused.  
  
Was Darcy’s hair darker?

**  
  
By the time Tuesday evening had rolled around, the entire tower knew that there was going to be a horse staying on Darcy’s floor; the arrival of the construction crew had been hard to miss. What the tower’s main residents didn’t know was how the horse was going to get up there.  
  
Clint and Thor seemed to be particularly excited at the prospect of having a horse close by, but both for different reasons- Thor missed his own mount, a stallion named ‘Spot’ (‘Spot? Really?’ ‘I named him when I was but a child’ ‘Fair enough’) and Clint because he got all nostalgic about his days in the circus.  
**  
  
The problem with agreeing to help out her Grandpa, beyond the whole horse-sitting aspect, were the physical changes.  
  
It always started with the hair.  
  
Normally, Darcy had wavy, dark-chestnut hair that only frizzed in high-humidity situations, was moderately easy to manage (there were days that she wished for the dead-straight hair that Jane had) and would stay in a hair tie with only a small amount of product. The minute she’d agree to help out with whatever shenanigans her Grandpa was up to this time, her hair began to darken to true black- the black of the bottom of the abyssal trenches. The widow’s lock would form at the same time, creating a dramatic contrast that automatically brought out comparisons to ‘The bride of Frankenstein’ (Shut-up, Tony!).  
  
It would also develop a mind of its own. Darcy was used to it, but for anyone who came across her at different intervals during the day it was a bit weird to see her sporting a pony-tail, followed by a bun, then a chignon. The white streak swirling through the style, adding highlights. It also became strangely resistant to any kind of ‘restraint’; hair-ties wouldn’t stay in, bobby pins would actively bend out of the way and barettes snapped as soon as they got close to her head.  
Then there was the Voice.  
~  
  
Normally, Darcy was able to control when she used the Voice, but the frustrations of the Lab, combined with the dramas with her Grandpa, made her control slip. But really, it was all Jane’s fault…  
  
Jane had been on a !Science bender since before Monday morning (when Darcy had gotten the phone-call from her Grandpa) and refused to budge from the lab. It was now Wednesday afternoon. Not even Thor and the promise of thunder-abs was enough to draw her away. So, really, it was inevitable that something would blow up. And at the worst possible time, too.  
  
Bruce had just walked in, stack of files in-hand, about to ask Jane a question about an equation when the ancient, duct-taped doohickey in the corner of the room gave a death-rattle, sparked and then went ka-boom. It was enough to startle Bruce (also on day four of !Science) into hulking-out. Normally he had more control over the other guy, but the combination of little (no) sleep, low blood-sugar and being distracted meant that the Hulk got away from him.  
  
Before he could get into a good rampage though, Darcy stepped forward, hair tightly coiled on top of her head, and said;  
  
STOP.  
  
At least, Hulk thought he heard Darcy say ‘stop’. His brain heard the word, but his ears were disagreeing.  
  
SIT DOWN, NOW.  
  
Hulk sat. It was like his knees bent without him telling them to bend. Hulk snarled in confusion.  
  
CALM DOWN, OR NO COOKIES.  
  
Hulk nodded. He like Darcy’s cookies.  
  
JANE, STOP! NOW! GO TO BED.  
  
Startled out of her thoughts, Jane turned around to face Darcy and flinched at the sight of the Hulk sitting cross-legged on the floor looking like a scolded toddler. A quick glance around the room found the smouldering wreck of one of her machines (DUM-E standing by with its fire extinguisher) and her assistant glaring at her with arms crossed and toes tapping in annoyance.  
  
Some primitive part of her brain was screaming a warning to listen to Darcy. Or else.  
  
Darcy lifted a finger, pointing to the doors and raised an eyebrow at her friend. Jane suddenly felt the exhaustion she’d been ignoring, nodded and left without saying a word.  
  
Sighing heavily (she was doing a lot of that lately…), Darcy turned back to Hulk, who was sitting docilely on the floor.  
  
“Okay, Hulk. Let’s get you settled in your special room and I’ll bring you some cookies and hot cocoa. Then you can have a nap.”  
  
Hulk nodded and stood.  
  
Later that day, after a solid eight hours sleep and hearty breakfast-for-dinner, Jane cornered Darcy in the lab.  
  
“So, how is Bruce hulking out in my lab, my fault?”  
  
“If you’d listened to me two days ago, and Thor yesterday, and gone to bed, you wouldn’t have been so absorbed in what you were doing that you completely missed one of your machines about to go critical.” Darcy was creepy-calm and there was nothing that Jane could say to refute.  
  
Jane stared at her, gaping before she shut her mouth and shrugged. “…Point.”  
  
“Next time, and we both know that there will be a next time, listen to me and go to bed when I tell you to.”  
  
“Okay, Darcy.”  
**  
  
Friday arrived and Darcy couldn’t help but be nervous about the whole thing. For the longest time, she’d kept everything about her family and their… oddities… to herself.   
It’d been so hard to keep it all under her well-knitted hats and she’d mostly managed to succeed. SHIELD never knew about her connections and she’d liked it that way; if they’d known, she would have been locked in a glass cage quicker than you could have said “Lying liar who lies”.  
  
Not that a cage would have kept her for long… there were benefits to being able to walk through walls. But then her secret would have been out and nowhere would have been safe and the life that she’d built would have been over.  
  
A dip of the couch next to her drew Darcy out of her introspection. Tony was sitting next to her with a martini glass in one hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.  
  
“What have you done now, Tony? Did you blow something up again?” Darcy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
Tony faux-pouted. “So suspicious, Lewis. I’m insulted.”  
  
“I know you, Tony. If you didn’t blow something up then you’re definitely plotting. Why do you look like the proverbial cat who ate the proverbial cream?”  
  
“We’re all waiting to go down with you to welcome your grandpa and his odd horse that needs human contact.”  
  
The urge to face-palm was so strong that Darcy needed to clench her fist in her lap.  
  
“You’re not going to meet my grand-father, Tony.”  
  
Tony gave her look that seemed to convey the silliness of that statement. “Of course I’m going to meet him Darcy. You’re family and family always meets the other family members that family didn’t know existed.”  
  
Darcy needed to blink while she parsed what Tony said.  
  
“Thank-you for the sentiment, Tony. I consider you family too, but you’re still not meeting him until you’re an old, grey, mostly deaf, possibly blind and lecherous geriatric who likes to pinch his nurses’ ass.”  
  
It was Tony’s turn to blink. “Lewis, your grandpa will probably be long gone before I get old enough to be hitting on nurses.”  
  
“Oh, Tony. There’s so much about me and my family that you don’t know. That’s merely the tip of the ice-berg.”  
  
Tony bounced on the couch like a hyperactive toddler before turning to face Darcy, feet tucked under his butt. “I like story-time. Jarvis, tell the others that Darcy is going to tell us a story.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” JARVIS sounded resigned.  
  
“I never agreed to that, Tony.”  
  
“Sure you did. I distinctly recall you saying that you were going to tell us all everything about your grandpa.”  
  
“You do know that I could have you committed to the funny farm for hearing voices, right?”  
  
Tony smirked. “Not without Pepper’s permission.”  
  
Darcy flapped her hand in dismissal “You really think that I can’t convince her?”  
  
“Not the point, Darce. Stop trying to distract me.” Tony looked serious now. “Why don’t you want me, want us, to know about, or meet your grandpa?”  
  
Darcy sighed. “I’m scared, Tony. I don’t want to tell you my big, bad secret and have you all turn on me.”  
  
Tony became serious. “Never happen, kid. You’re one of us now.” He lifted an arm and offered a cuddle. “C’mere.”  
  
Snuggling into Tony’s warmth, Darcy allowed herself to believe that nothing would change.  
  
“Now, do you want a drink?”  
**  
  
Darcy was standing in front of the television, feeling very like a school teacher with the Avengers arrayed in front of her like a class of eager kindergarteners and she was about to start story-time.  
  
“So, my mother was adopted. Grandpa adopted her after Mom’s birth-parents were killed in a car accident.”  
  
“That’s not that unusual, Darcy. If anything, it’s outright generous.” Nat offered.  
  
“True. But what’s unusual, is that they died in 1810.” Darcy smirked at the expressions on the Avengers’ faces. There was a distinct ‘gold-fish’ impression happening.  
  
Deciding to press on, Darcy continued. “When the accident happened, Mom was six. The way she tells it, one minute the car was puttering along, the next her dad had swerved to avoid hitting an animal in the lane way, lost control and hit a tree. At the time, automobiles were still in the development stage and the modern day version of the internal combustion engine hadn’t been invented yet, so the car ran on hydrogen. Collision plus unstable gas plus sparks from twisted metal equalled boom. Grandpa had been close to the accident when it happened and pulled Mom out of the wreckage. He took her to his home and raised her as his daughter. I came along when she was twenty… at least, biologically twenty.”  
  
Jane shook herself out of her shock to ask, “Just how old is your Grandpa if he was around in 1810? I mean, it’s not that far out of the realm of reality these days- what with defrosted super-soldiers and aliens that used to pose as Norse deities- for there to be someone or something living into their bi-or-tri-centennial.”  
  
“That’s not an easy question to answer. He doesn’t measure time like we do. He was there for the beginning and he’ll be there at the end to make sure the lights are turned off. I guess ‘old’ would be a fair assessment.”  
  
“Darcy, stop hinting and talking around the point. Who or what is your Grandpa that you don’t want us to meet him and that requires his horse to be baby-sat?” Tony was never the patient sort.  
  
Before she could answer, Jarvis interrupted, “Sir, there is an unauthorised… presence on the landing pad.”  
  
Darcy rushed past the still-reeling Avengers and could be heard muttering something about impeccable timing.  
**  
  
“Grandpa! Nice timing on the arrival. I was just attempting to explain all… this...” Darcy skritched Binky’s soft nose as she looked up at her Grandfather. The horse whickered and began to slobber over her hand in greeting.  
  
DARCY. YOU LOOK WELL.  
  
“I’m good. Happy. Slightly miffed. How are you?”  
  
Grandpa tilted his head. On anyone else, the gesture would convey confusion, but for some reason, he just looked menacing. Body language was kind of hard to do when you didn’t have a body.  
  
WHY ARE YOU ‘MIFFED’? AND YOU WILL INTRODUCE ME TO YOUR FRIENDS, THOUGH I DO KNOW WHO THEY ARE.  
  
Darcy turned away from her Grandpa and saw her house-mates. Thor looked as though he’d dropped straight to his knees in obeisance the minute he’d seen who was waiting (the cape was still settling around him), while the rest of them looked as though they’d been hit with a freeze-ray.  
  
Turning back to her Grandpa, she took in the tableau; tall, thin figure wearing a black-hooded robe and cloak, belt and scabbard cinching the robe around a non-existent waist. Scythe in one hand while the other held the reins of a giant white horse clad in black leather and chain-mail barding. Binky was pulling out all stops now that he had an audience- he had the flame-snorting thing going. Both of them: total drama-queens.  
  
Darcy got it. She really did- Death in all his drama-loving glory was an intimidating sight. But she’d never been scared of him. This was the being who would try to stuff a pillow up his robes and hook a fake beard to his…jaw… to try and bring some yule festivities to a baby Darcy. He was just her Grandpa, even with all the quirks and oddities.  
  
Doing her best Vana White impersonation, Darcy gestured expansively at her Grandpa. “Guys, meet Death. My Grandfather.” Binky snorted at being left out, “And Binky, his noble steed; who will be staying with us until Grandpa gets back from where-ever it is that he’s going.”  
  
“Grandpa, meet The Avengers and their significant others.”  
  
GREETINGS, AVENGERS.  
**  
  
Darcy and her Grandpa stayed out on the landing pad, talking while the rest of the Avengers went back inside.  
  
After pouring a generous slug of bourbon, Tony was the first to break the silence. “So, did we know that Darcy was Death’s grand-daughter?” he was met with blank looks.   
“Foster? You knew Darcy first and longest. Did you have any clue about this?”  
  
Jane shook her head, “The only thing that Darcy ever told me about her family was that they were somewhat unconventional and that she didn’t live near them at all.”  
  
“Well, that’s one way to describe them…”  
**  
  
“So, Grandpa, not that I’m not thrilled to see you and Binky again, but what’s with the sudden need to have a vacation and need me to take over the business for… how long are you going to be away for?”  
  
IT IS NOT A VACATION, DARCY. THERE IS AN… IMBALANCE… THAT NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED.  
  
“Well, that’s not at all vague. Any chance you can be a bit more specific? I’m going to have to run the gauntlet in there and they’re going to have all the questions. Not the least of which will be why Death’s horse needs to be baby-sat.”  
  
Binky snorted in equine disgust at the idea of being ‘baby-sat’.  
  
If Death had a face, Darcy thought that he’d be frowning.  
  
YOU KNOW THAT I CANNOT ALWAYS TELL YOU EVERYTHING.  
  
“Yeah, I get that, Grandpa. But what you seem to forget is that every-time I need to cover for you, the life I manage to scrounge for myself falls apart. I have something so wonderful here, and now it might be hanging on a thread.” Darcy couldn’t help the tears beginning to form.  
  
“Just tell me something- anything- that will make this whole ball of whacky seem not as outrageous as it really is.”  
  
Death dismounted and opened his arms in the universal gesture of offering a hug. COME HERE, CHILD.  
  
Darcy wrapped her arms around Death’s ribs and held on as he brought his arms round her shoulders. She sniffled and just breathed. For anyone else, having bony fingers comb through their hair would cause shudders upon shudders. For Darcy though, it just brought back memories of long weekends with her Grandpa at his residence, curled up on his sofa, listening to him tell her stories of other places and times.  
  
HAVE YOU BEEN TOLD ABOUT THE BEING CALLED THANOS?  
  
“Thor has mentioned that he’s a nut-bag who thinks that he’s in love with you. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”  
  
INDEED. THIS THANOS-CREATURE THINKS TO SWAY ME TO ITS CAUSE OF ANNIHILATION. I MUST… DISSUADE… IT OF ITS DELUSION BEFORE IT DISCOVERS THE TIES THAT I HAVE TO THIS REALITY. THIS WILL TAKE SOME TIME. BINKY CANNOT SURVIVE IN THE EXPANSES BETWEEN THE REALITIES THAT I WILL NEED TO TRAVERSE. I WILL RETURN WHEN IT HAS BEEN COMPLETED. Death’s mein became fierce. NONE MAY ESCAPE ME, AND NONE WILL HARM MY FAMILY.  
  
“I love you too, Grandpa. Just stay safe.”  
  
I AM ALWAYS SAFE, GRAND-DAUGHTER. I MUST GO. TELL THE CAPTAIN THAT I HAVE NOT YET CLAIMED HIS FRIEND.  
  
Darcy smiled as she pulled away. “I’ll pass the message on.”  
  
Death nodded and faded away, leaving Darcy holding Binky’s reins.  
  
“Well, Binky, want me to show you your room?”  
  
Binky snorted and stamped a hoof. Darcy took that as a yes.  
  
This was going to be so much fun… not.


	3. Domestic Goddess (part1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy was used to larger than life personalities clashing- it was what caused her siblings to hate each other- but this group, with a weight on their shoulders that would make Atlas wince, needed to learn to rely on each other as more than some-time colleagues; they needed to become family. And Darcy, would be just the goddess to see it done. Or Else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been floating around my head in various forms for over a year now, half finished, then erased, then restarted and then finally, perth had a run of about 4 days over 40C/105F+ (if my converter is correct). i called it in one day and sat in a cafe and restarted it again. next thing I knew, I had over 3000 words and still wasn't done... so here you go, with the first part (4000+words.) hope it doesn't suck :)  
> *Edit, 13 feb. went back and fixed the italic explosion... also, added more tags. part 2 in progress

Preface  
  
The oldest stood at the back of the gathering and took in her siblings as they ate and drank and tried to fool each other with a veneer of civility and filial care.  
  
She couldn’t help but be disappointed in how they all turned out. Not for nothing, she couldn’t help but think that part of it was her fault- as the oldest of them, it was her responsibility to steer them, but she felt like a failure;  
  
Her youngest brother was a womaniser who left broken-hearts (and progeny) behind him without a second thought, her middle brother was far too occupied with the tides and thinking about how fast he could use the them to get away from the rest of his family (she was the closest to him of all of them, and they’d had many discussions about how each was feeling), while her oldest brother was a depressed and brooding man who actually gave her the most concern. Her sisters were also worrisome; the youngest sister was a spiteful, vindictive and petty person who was no fun to be around- she had some kind of irrational hate-on for one of their nephews that was something of a concern. Her middle sister was more interested in the plants and animals that resided on the estate- so absorbed in what she could take from the world and expecting everything to align with her whims that she didn’t care for anything else.  
  
There were days that she could curse her parents for their lackadaisical attitudes to child-rearing; if only they had been more involved early on in their lives then maybe she wouldn’t have roughly a dozen nieces and nephews (with more on the way) running around, getting into trouble. Maybe if they had been around more in the early days, her siblings wouldn’t be so self-entitled? Who could say?  
  
She could feel the currents of dissent and fracturing- family would always be a rolling boil of changing relationships and delicate egos, but there was something about the last few times that they’d managed to gather that suggested a schism was coming that would take a long time to be repaired.  
  
It also didn’t help that there was a new player in the business. It was making everyone tense and snappish.  
  
Enough was enough.  
  
Knowing that her parents wouldn’t be any help, she decided to contact her Grand-mother. Maybe Grand-mother would have some idea or solution that would help to keep her family from imploding under the strain.  
  
Walking into the kitchen, She made her call and waited for a response. She wasn’t disappointed.  
  
“Hello, Grand-Daughter.”  
  
“Grand-Mother, thank-you for responding. How are you?”  
  
“I am well, child. Why did you call me?”  
  
She sighed. “Grand-Mother, I have concerns. Our family is fracturing and I fear that it is only a matter of days before it cannot be repaired. Mother and Father are not interested in the situation as it stands. They are more occupied with their own concerns to spare us any thought. We need your help and guidance.”  
  
Grand-Mother was silent for a time. She feared that her chance at repairing the fractures had gone until Grand-mother spoke again.  
  
“Child, all things end. As with the tide, families ebb and flow. They come together and are torn apart. If all parts are not united in purpose then they cannot function as a whole, no matter how much you may wish it weren’t so.”  
  
She swallowed back the outburst that threatened to leave the cage of her teeth.  
  
“Please, I have no wish to see our family splinter. Please, can you help?” She wasn’t above begging if it meant that her siblings could become close again as they once were as children. “They are all so blinkered to the events that don’t directly concern them, that they don’t see the pain that they are causing each other with their arrogance. I try to open their eyes to the destruction they wreak, but am told to mind my own business.” She sobbed as she continued. “I fear that should things continue as they are, that we will be overtaken by the newcomers before they even become aware of the threat.”  
  
“Child, I cannot intervene. Your brothers and sisters are adults who make their own choices. If they choose to be so absorbed in petty concerns that they mis-see the larger patterns forming around them, then it is their own fault, and they will be the instruments of their own destruction.” Her Grand-mother’s voice softened as she continued, “Your concern and care for your family does you credit, child. I am both grateful and proud that you try to hold your family together in spite of resistance, but this is not your burden to bear. Let your siblings do as they will. Continue to offer comfort to those who seek you out and any rewards you receive will be rightfully earned.”  
  
She was crying now- the suppressed tears finally escaping.  
  
“Be strong and brave, Child. Know that you are loved.”  
  
Her sobs continued as her Grand-mother left.  
  
Night had fallen before she could compose herself and leave the sanctuary of the kitchen. Resolved to the inevitable, she stood and made to re-join the gathering that had continued in her absence, when her path was blocked.  
  
Her cousins were disconcerting at times. They had a tendency to speak as one, each finishing the others’ sentence, and were not afraid to say only truths. Their refusal to bow or pander to the egos of her siblings made for uncomfortable family gatherings, which was why they tended to linger in the periphery. She didn’t mind though. Often, her cousins spoke aloud the things she couldn’t bring herself to say, but often wished that she could. For that, they held a special place in her heart.  
  
“Good evening, cousins. How are you this night?”  
  
“We are well…” said one.  
  
“But we know what concerns you…” said another.  
  
“And we know that you sought help from Grand-mother, to no avail.” Said the third.  
  
She frowned and nodded. “This is true. Do you have any insights to offer?”  
  
Her cousins shared a speaking glance before returning their attentions back to her.  
  
“We do not…” said the first.  
  
“And we could not share them even if we did…” said the second.  
  
“But we do offer some advice, if you would hear it?” Said the third.  
  
She nodded. “Another perspective would be appreciated.”  
  
“Your family will always be remembered for being who they are…” said the first  
  
“Though time and distance will turn them into naught but myth…” said the second  
  
“Their legacy will continue, and they will inspire generations to greatness.” Finished the third.  
  
“You will need to be strong, as Grand-mother told you…”  
  
“You will need to continue in the background, as you have been, and be the foundation stone for them to lean against when the world seems set to crumble around them…”  
  
“And you will need to find joy in places other than this.”  
  
She nodded in acceptance, though confusion reigned in her mind. “Thank-you for your advice, cousins. I shall consider all that you have said.” She nodded again in farewell and walked to the path that would lead to her chambers, when her cousins called after her.  
  
“Wait! There is one more thing that we would tell you…” Said the first.  
  
She turned and walked back. “Yes?”  
  
“Your fate is not the same as the others…”  
  
“Step away from the day-to-day and forge your own path, one that is not tied to that of your siblings…”  
  
“In that new life, you will find all that you now lack.”  
  
She nodded again. “Thank-you, cousins. Know that with whatever is to come, you will always be welcome in my home, and at my table.”  
  
As she once again stepped away, she smiled at the three-part voice that met her ears, and couldn’t help but feel slightly hopeful.  
  
“Good Luck, Hestia.”  
**

 _Part One: New Mexico, 2011._  
  
The sound of someone wailing about finding love in hopeless places pulled her out of a dream of a long ago garden party, snappish family politics and a generous helping of cryptic advice. She didn’t really need sleep, but it was nice to indulge in, every so often. The song changed and she winced. Euterpe must be due for another rest soon if the recent quality of today’s music was any indication; she longed for the better days of Bach and Handel, heck, even classic Rolling Stones with their (not so subtle- Dionysus would be proud) references to drug use were better than the current garbage assaulting the air-waves- Justin Beiber, anyone?  
  
Laying in her bed in the converted car dealership, the being once known to the world as Hestia (or Vesta, depending on who you spoke to) stared at the ceiling and marvelled at how much things had changed, and yet stayed the same. There were still people who disrespected the sanctity of life, there were still those who only cared for themselves. There were heroes, villains and visionaries- often all in the same person. The only real difference between then and now, was the level of technology and ready availability of knowledge. She loved it, when she didn’t hate it- as with all things, technology was a two-edged sword.  
  
“Darcy!”  
  
The dulcet sound of her current boss snapped her out of her introspection. It was time to get started with the day. Rolling out of her bed, Darcy- once Hestia, struggled into her jeans, t-shirt and cardigan and boots before stumbling out of the bedroom and into their kitchen for coffee. If there was one thing that she adored about the new world, it was coffee. Prior to the Turks and Arabs bringing coffee to Greece, the best that was available for morning ‘wake-me-ups’ were different teas (or booze, but that way lead to bad things). Leaf water just didn’t have the same kick that coffee did. Forget ambrosia, coffee was the real ‘food’ of the gods.  
  
“Darcy! Where did you put the oscilloscope?” Jane was obviously already caffeinated and had had a head start on the day’s data.  
  
Grumbling under her breath about overly perky astrophysicists, Darcy gulped down her cup-o-life and wrestled a pack of pop-tarts out of the box before wandering the lab-floor to where Jane was glaring at a white-board.  
  
“Here, eat this while I get Oscar down from the shelf you left it on last night.” Darcy shoved the cold toaster-pastry into Jane’s hands and then hip-checked her (gently) in the direction of the wheelie chair.  
  
Jane mumbled her thanks around a mouthful of pop-tart. Turning, Darcy had a better look at her friend-slash-boss and reconsidered her earlier assumption. There were dark circles under her eyes that wouldn’t look out of place on a panda. Combined with the five- no, six, pens tucked into Jane’s haphazard bun and the smudges of dry-erase over her cheek, Darcy was drawn to the inevitable conclusion that Jane hadn’t been to bed since the evening before last and the earlier perkiness was the result of exhausted hysteria fuelled by too much coffee and not enough actual food.  
  
Sighing, Darcy drew Jane back to her feet and took charge. “Right. Off to the shower and then to bed with you, Doctor Jane.”  
  
The expected resistance was quickly dealt with when Darcy just glared at Jane with a raised eyebrow and tapping toe.  
  
“I’ll wake you in time for dinner and tonight’s readings, okay?”  
  
“’Kay. Night, Darce.”  
  
Darcy waited until Jane was safely behind the locked door of her bedroom before turning back to assess the mess of Jane’s work benches. It looked like a tornado had ripped through. Amongst the ubiquitous scientific papers, journals and print-outs were forgotten pop-tart packets, apple cores, pizza boxes with vari-aged crusts and empty soda cans. The mess wasn’t limited to the benches- some of it had spilled to the floor.  
  
It amazed Darcy that someone so small and organised with every other aspect of their life could be so disorganised when it came to her work. How Jane ever found anything but salmonella poisoning in amongst this mess was a mystery for the ages- right up there with how the Kardashians became famous and why Hera was a bitch.  
  
Deciding the work-space could wait until she’d prepared something for their dinner that night, Darcy quickly had a casserole bubbling away in the slow cooker and bread dough beginning to rise in a covered bowl, waiting to be baked. A quick trip to the local general store had a nice block of Edam cheese in the fridge along with a ready-to-eat apple pie for dessert.  
  
The tidy-up of the benches took up the rest of the morning, three garbage bags (Ew.) and a hefty dose of spray-n-wipe to remove the grease stains from various places.  
  
After her own shower, Darcy beat the bread-dough into submission before leaving it to rise again and started on the transcriptions. Just as the sun was setting, Darcy shaped the dough into loaves and put them in the oven to bake before she went to wake Jane. A glance at the clock showed that her scientist had managed to sleep for a solid seven-and-a-half hours. Excellent.  
  
Darcy was slicing the cheese and putting it onto the still hot bread to melt as Jane came out to join her at the table. It was the one thing that Darcy insisted on- Jane could make all the other rules, but meals were consumed together, while sitting at the dining table and discussing the day… as a family. Sure, at the moment it was a family of two, but if _Lilo and Stitch_ were to be believed, it didn’t really matter- Ohana and all that.  
  
Jane was telling Darcy about her mentor from the university who was due to arrive the next day to provide another set of eyes for a problem Jane was having with an aspect of her research. Erik Selvig sounded like an interesting person, and Darcy was looking forward to having another person at her table; for some reason it was hard for Darcy to only cook for two- she wasn’t able to break the habit of cooking for six or more and as a result, the freezer was full of left-overs.  
  
She was asking about potential food allergies (none) and dislikes (salmon and brussels sprouts) that their new room-mate had when the Jaws theme blasted from Darcy’s phone. She couldn’t help the grin.  
  
“That’s the ring-tone for your brother, right? The fisherman?” Jane asked.  
  
Darcy nodded and walked over to get the phone before it rang out. “Yup. He must be back on land for now.”  
  
Darcy had told Jane that her brother was a commercial fisherman that spent most of his time underway. It was the closest she could come to the truth without actually telling Jane that her brother was Poseidon.  
  
“Cool. I’ll leave you to your conversation then. Thanks for dinner Darcy.”  
  
“Not a problem. There will be pie later, so don’t get too caught up.” Darcy tapped her phone to receive the call as Jane wandered back to her work-benches. “Hi, Percy. How was your time out?”  
  
She heard Poseidon sigh on the other end of the line. “You’re not alone are you?”  
  
Conscious of Jane and the potential for eavesdropping, Darcy replied, “Nah, it’s just Jane and I, doing science and stuff.” Jane snorted in the other room. “Hang on a sec while I go outside.”  
  
Darcy stepped out into the cool night air and just breathed for a few moments before returning to the call. “Okay, I’m back. So, not that I don’t love talking to you, but you never call to just check in. What’s up?”  
  
“So surly, big sister.”  
  
“I have reasons to be. Just be grateful that you’re not Zach or I’d be asking who you fucked this time and how much does she want.” Poseidon laughed.  
  
“True, Zeus is fairly predictable that way. Have you been keeping up with events lately?”  
  
“Which ones? There are so many things happening in the world that I don’t know what to look at first.”  
  
“Our great-great-great-great-great-grand-nephew is wreaking havoc again. This time in Monaco.” She knew exactly who Poseidon was talking about.  
  
“You missed a few ‘greats’ there, Perce. What exactly has Tony done now?” Darcy felt the urge to face-palm. That boy… such a trouble maker.  
  
“He ripped up the Monaco Grand Prix after some other guy went after him with force-whips.”  
  
Darcy sighed. “Of course he did.” Darcy switched to Ancient Greek- it was easier than trying to remember the alter-identities for her large group of nieces and nephews. “If I didn’t know for sure that he was of Hephaestus’ line, I’d swear that Hermes had a part in siring him.”  
  
“Hades finds it hilarious.”  
  
“Yes, but that’s because Hades is a sadistic asshole who enjoys schadenfreude to an unhealthy degree. The guy needs a hobby.”  
  
Poseidon belly laughed- it sounded like whale song combined with a land-slide. Darcy smiled as she listened- her brother didn’t laugh anywhere near enough for her liking.  
  
“Oh, how I miss you, sister. It has been too long since we last spent time together.”  
  
“You could always visit. You do know that, right?”  
  
Poseidon scoffed. “Not while you are in the desert, sister. If you ever come back to one of the coasts, I will happily visit you then. I cannot be away from the oceans for too long.”  
  
“I know, brother. I miss you, too. I should go before Jane manages to set fire to something.”  
  
“S’agapo, Athelfi. Kali nictha”  
  
“S’agapo, filios.”  
~~  
Three days later…  
  
Darcy was cranky. No, she was more than cranky.  
  
‘Pissed’ would almost cover it, but it didn’t quite encompass the sheer amounts of ‘mad’ she was feeling. Ropable came close, but lacked some impact. ‘Ready to cut a bitch’ just sounded wrong, even in her own head, but was the closest descriptor to how she was actually feeling.  
  
Fucking barbarian Asgardian pretenders and their stupid, fucked-up methods of discipline. Fuckers.  
  
If she weren’t pretending to be human, she could have happily stomped all over Odin and kicked his ideas of child-rearing so far up his ass that he’d need a flash-light to find them again.  
  
Who does that? Who lies to their kid for _that_ long and then have the gall to be pissed off when they inevitably learn the truth and confront them about it? Really? Cronos and Rhea had their issues, but they never lied to her or her siblings about important things.  
  
And to top it off, he banishes Thor to Earth to ‘learn humility’, for fuck’s sake.  
  
She had a good mind to grab Mjolnir and beat Odin over the head with it.  
  
Grr.  
  
Nope, she was currently Darcy Lewis. Science Intern, Political Science (heh) Major and all-round awesome cook-slash-baby sitter. She was not Hestia; Goddess of the Hearth, Family order and Politics. She could not ‘Go Medieval on his ass’, no matter how much Odin deserved it.  
  
And she needed to calm down and stop swearing (even in her own head) before the jack-booted thugs from SHIELD caught on to the fact that she wasn’t human- not that they could really do anything about it if they did…  
  
On the bright-side, she got to see Hephaestus again, even if it was from a distance- he was currently working with the JBT’s and had started drooling over the remains of Odin’s little transformer wannabe. She was tempted to goad him about Tony’s antics (her twitter feed went mental about the other robot death-match that happened at the Stark Expo), but didn’t have the chance to get him alone.  
  
Thor, however, posed something of a conundrum. On the one hand, she was tempted to paint him with the same brush that she did Odin, if only because of their first meeting (she may be playing human, but no puny alien would make her cower). On the other hand, it seemed like he’d had a bit of a ‘Hero’s journey’ moment and grown up a bit. He wasn’t quite as douche-baggy now and seemed like an actual nice guy. That, and Jane seemed to be smitten with the big lug, so she was inclined to like him.  
  
She was still seriously pissed off at Odin though- her family (Jane, newly Erik, maybe Thor) had been in danger, and that was JUST. NOT. ACCEPTABLE.  
  
SHIELD was also on her shit list for making Jane so upset. It would take time, but eventually, she’d calm down.  
  
For now, it was time to see a recently-restored-to-former-glory ‘god’ back to his home planet. Then it would be time to move on to the next adventure.  
**  
  
Part two  
  
_London and New York, (late) 2014_  
  
Darcy was once again back on the ‘I hate Asgardians (except for Thor), especially Odin’ band-wagon. She wanted to know who gave the one-eyed twat-waffle permission to stash the Aether in a pocket reality on Earth and then feed them their entrails… while they were still alive… It was probably Hades, the jerk.  
  
She was also, once again, pissed at SHIELD. The hypocrisy they were exhibiting was very disappointing- one minute they’re stealing all of your boss’ research in the name of ‘National Security’, the next minute, as you’re fighting for your life, they’re nowhere to be found.  
  
So pissed.  
  
Though, she did get to flex her smitin’ muscles, so, a small ‘yay’. But still; Fucking Elves. Fucking SHIELD. Fucking Odin. Fuck them with a thorny branch.  
  
Jane was of a similar mind-set, when she wasn’t snogging Thor. With less swearing.  
  
A discussion over a mini-Chinese buffet in the living room of Jane’s flat had them resolved to moving back to the USA and working with-slash-for Stark Industries. Thor was in favour of the move so that he could once again be near and work with his new shield-brethren, Jane wanted to move because of the toys. Darcy had shrugged and started a mental inventory of the kitchen stuff she’d need to drag with her so that she could still make Jane and Erik’s favourite meals. Jane read her nonchalance over the change in science venue as mild assent and Darcy wasn’t about to contradict her. Really, she was jumping for joy. She’d be back on the same continent as the family she actually liked and she’d be able to meet her many-times great-grand-nephew and slap him about the ear for some of the crap he’d pulled in recent years, causing her to worry. It’d be awesome.  
~~  
  
Turns out, Thor? Not a fan of flying by non-Mjolnir powered means.  
  
Darcy wasn’t sure that Tony would be able to get the hand-dents out of the internal fuselage. She’d tried, but Jane just wasn’t up to the task of keeping her boy-toy calm, so Darcy helped.  
  
With her ear-phones firmly in place and attention seemingly fixed to her kindle, she started to hum the lullaby that had worked aeons ago when Zeus was cutting his first tooth. Slowly, slowly, Thor began to calm down and released his death-grip on the seat. By the time they were half an hour out of New York, Thor was drifting in that almost-but-not-quite state that comes before you finally fall asleep and Jane was snoring, head in her boyfriend’s lap with his fingers tangled in her hair- there was also a hint of drool that Darcy may or not have taken a photo of. If she were the smug sort of person, Darcy would be buffing her fingernails on her shirt collar. She still had the touch.  
  
When they landed, and Jane was supervising the unloading of her equipment, Thor pulled Darcy aside.  
  
“Thank-you for your assistance on the plane, Lady. I’ve not felt that settled, nor so swiftly since I was but a boy at my Mother’s knee.”  
  
Darcy decided to play dumb. “I didn’t do anything, Thor.”  
  
“I think you did, my Lady. But I understand that you would keep your secrets.”  
  
Darcy felt a little relief that maybe someone would understand who she really was, so she let Thor see a small part of her true self. Thor sucked in a breath, looking startled.  
  
“You’re not going to say anything to anyone, are you? I like the life I’ve built, I like that the rest of my family is far away from me, ‘cause let me tell you my friend, they make what you’re going through with your folks, look tame by comparison.”  
  
Thor was shaking his head in the negative before she’d even finished asking her question. “Nay, Lady. I shall keep my peace.”  
  
“I know you will, Thor. It just never hurts to check sometimes. Want a hug?” Darcy smiled and opened her arms. The sudden impact of a large man drew a soft ‘oof’ as Thor glommed on to her. It was one of the best hugs she’d ever had.  
~~  
  
Living in the tower was not what Darcy thought it would be.  
  
She had thought, initially, that it would be like living in one of the villages that had existed around Mt. Olympus; everyone talking to and caring about each other, helping out with chores or the day-to-day… but No.  
  
After talking to Jarvis (and wasn’t he a trip?) Darcy discovered that the supposed best hope for the planet couldn’t stand to be in the same room with each other for more than a few minutes, unless it was planning for a mission.  
  
According to the all-seeing databanks of the resident AI, the healthiest relationship (of the non-romantic kind) was between Bruce and Tony, and that was only due to the siren-call of Science.  
  
Steve couldn’t stand Tony, Tony thought Steve was a goody two-shoes (which, he kinda was, but Darcy thought that was more due to not being familiar with the more modern inter-personal mores), Steve was wary of Bruce, which put Bruce’s hackles up. Bruce managed to scare Natasha on first meeting which made the assassin edgy and likely to reach for the safety-blanket that was her favourite knife. Barton expressed his emotion through pranks, which both annoyed and elated Tony who tended to retaliate while Bruce was around causing Hulk to pay everyone a visit, Pepper had distanced herself by working on the east coast which meant that Tony was crankier than normal… and so on.  
  
Darcy was used to larger than life personalities clashing- it was what caused her siblings to hate each other- but this group, with a weight on their shoulders that would make Atlas wince, needed to learn to rely on each other as more than some-time colleagues; they needed to become family. And Darcy, formerly Hestia, would be just the goddess to see it done. Or Else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar with the Mythos (the really, really abridged version)...  
> Gaia (Earth) and Uranus had a bunch of children that became called 'Titans'. Two of the titans (Cronos and Rhea) married and had six children (in order); Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, Hera, Zeus. In most versions, Cronos ate all the children bar the last (zeus) who then battled his father, won and opened his belly to 'rebirth' his siblings; so oldest became youngest, etc.  
> I am choosing to ignore this particular aspect... *hand-wavy artistic licence*. Darcy/Hestia is THE ultimate big sister and no-one can convince me otherwise. besides, who better than the goddess of the hearth, home and family, and pollitics to make the avengers into more than a haphazard fighting squad?


	4. Reaper part 2(a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first part of the second part of the reaper verse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been longer, but i wasn't entirely happy with it, so it got cut in half and the part that i was happy with is here for your enjoyment while i beat the rest of it into a shape that i'm happy with...

Darcy stared in disbelief.  
  
Binky was standing on the cat-walk that Clint often used when he was practicing his trick-shots. Three stories up.  
  
Granted, Binky was Death’s horse and that simple fact had given him some… abilities that other horses didn’t get to encounter, but it still didn’t explain why he was up there in the first place. Darcy suspected shenanigans. Or Clint. Either option was equally likely.  


“Binky, why are you up there? Is that damned Rat up there with you?” Death of Rats had showed up not long after her Grandpa had left. He’d been eating all the cheese in the tower since then. Tony was bemused about the situation, but couldn’t really do anything about it- it wasn’t like he could set a trap under the blue-vein.  
  
Binky snorted, tossed his head and stomped a hoof.  
  
“Don’t you sass me, Pinky-pie. We have things to do. I’m being called and that means that you have to come with me.” Darcy folded her arms and tapped her foot as she waited for the horse to figure out how to get down. It was a more than ridiculous sight- a five hundred plus kilogram horse trying to climb down an inclined ramp, in much the same way that a cat would climb down a tree. If it weren’t for the fact that the call was getting stronger, Darcy would have found it highly amusing.  
  
“Binky, please. Just get down here. I don’t want to have to tell Grandpa that you’re misbehaving and slacking off.”  
Between blinks, Binky had gone from trying to negotiate the ramp to standing directly beside Darcy, snuffling her hair and trying to look like the very picture of equine innocence. Ordinarily, Darcy wouldn’t buy it with a pinch of salt (like her grandpa, she thought that horses either grinning or trying to look innocent meant that they were plotting something), but she was under a bit of a time crunch.  
“Thank-you. Now, I know you were having fun up there, so I’ll make you a carrot cake when we get back, ok?”  
Binky whickered with enthusiasm. “Good boy. Now go get dressed and meet me on the landing pad as quick as possible.”  
**  
  
The tug of _need to go_ was becoming more and more insistent. Darcy had taken to pacing in an effort to relieve the tension as she waited for Binky.  
  
She never liked this aspect of who she was- despite the necessity of seeing to the end of a life (irrespective of that life’s phylum), there was something in Darcy that always made her wince and feel a little nauseated about reaping a soul. She’d mentioned that feeling to her mother after Darcy had escorted her first soul to where-ever it needed to go. Darcy was told that it just meant that she was human and wouldn’t fall into the same… apathy (for lack of a better word)… that her grandpa seemed to demonstrate.  
At the sound of hooves on concrete, Darcy turned and readjusted the scabbard at her waist. “About time, Binky. Did you need to perm your mane or something?”  
Binky snorted and tossed his head. “Fine. We need to stop at the life-timer room first.”  


Darcy closed her eyes, concentrated and took herself out of the time-stream to walk between breaths. “Right then. Let’s head off.” Swinging into the saddle, Darcy looked around and nodded to herself before taking up the reins and nudging Binky into moving.  
**  
  
Everything about her Grandpa was a strange mix of disconcerting and reassuring at the same time; this extended to his estate. Imagine viewing the famous ‘Staircase’ painting by Escher whilst taking powerful hallucinogens and doing spinnies on an office chair, and someone who wasn’t related to Death might begin to have the slightest inkling of a stray thought at how it looked. It wasn’t so much that there was mind-bending physics involved, it was more that Death had certain idea on how an estate was supposed to look, but very little idea of how architecture worked- you’d be as equally likely to find a laundry in the sitting room as you would finding a door to the pantry on the ceiling which was also the floor depending on how many steps and in which direction you walked.  
  
Once you managed to wade through the ocean of cats, kittens and for some inexplicable reason, upside down chess pieces on a life-size chess board, Death’s estate was otherwise very restive. The life-timer room, though, was a different story. Knowing that the peaceful ‘shush’ of falling sand was also the sound of lives passing by… Darcy could never really rest in here.  
  
The tug behind her belly button drew her to a shelf that wasn’t too far into the stacks, but still further back than she’d expected. Darcy’s gaze and hand were drawn to a life-timer on the middle shelf. It was acting weird.  
  
Usually, the life timer of any given individual looked like a traditional hour-glass or egg-timer. Grandpa had said that they once looked like a sun-dial, but with the advent of more accurate time-keeping, they all changed. Darcy had asked why they didn’t change to either analogue clock-faces or even a digital read-out, but Grandpa had explained that the life-timers were still the shape they were as the ‘hour-glass’ as a symbol was still widely recognised, despite the advent of more and more accurate time-keepers.  
This one was weird though. For starters, it looked as though someone had taken a regular hour-glass made of play-dough and smushed it into a weird shape that kinda-sorta looked like two hour-glasses that were conjoined twins. The sand in the bulbs was jumping between the conjoined timers- as though the person was living two separate, but joined lives. Each time the sand jumped, the nameplate on the timer also kept blurring into and out of focus, as though the person who the timer belonged to didn’t know who they were from minute to minute, almost pulsing like a heart-beat. Darcy focused, willing to have the name-plate stay steady long enough to be read. As the name became clear, Darcy gasped, grabbed the timer and ran back out to Binky.  
  
“Fly, Binky. You know where we need to go. Fly like you never have before.”  
**  


Still in that space between breaths, Darcy and Binky materialised in what looked like a warehouse from the late 1800’s. Clay brick walls covered in dust and cob-webs merged with rusted, corrugated iron and splintered glass. Abandoned and rusted skeletons of machinery cast eerie shadows on the walls and gave the space a generally spooky vibe.  
  
Darcy blinked and swore softly- there was a bullet frozen in mid-air, level with her eyes. Taking another look around the space, Darcy traced more bullets frozen in time, it looked as though they had materialised in the middle of a heated battle. Closing her eyes, Darcy concentrated on the tug behind her belly-button to lead her to the person she was here for, instinctively dodging the projectiles littering the space between them.  
  
There.  
  
There they were. Moments from being hit by an unseen bullet that would strike them in the head and cause the weirdly acting sand in the person’s life-timer to abruptly fall to the bottom.  
  
If she didn’t intervene, that was.  
**  
  
Pulling someone out of the flow of stopped time took considerable strength. Fortunately, it wasn’t physical strength that was required- more psychic strength (not the woo-woo crystal ball style ‘psychic’), and that, Darcy had in spades.  
Not for nothing, her mother called her a stubborn little so-and-so.  


Darcy raised one hand and placed it on the cheek of her target, concentrating on what she needed to do next wrapped her other hand around the arm that was holding an assault rifle of some description. Taking another breath, Darcy pulled him out of the stagnation of the current lack of time flow. It left her panting and vowing to go back to the gym and work on her fitness- the dude was heavy.  
“Hello James. I have a proposition for you.”


End file.
